


Unintended Prayers

by The Hunters Angel (ToriCeratops)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean, Human Castiel, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Wing Kink, reverse!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/The%20Hunters%20Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is Cas' guardian - and honestly if you ask him he's a pretty shitty one, letting Cas get into life threatening situations all the time.<br/>But if you ask Cas, Dean is perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintended Prayers

The thing about being a guardian is that when your ward prays with any amount of intent - sometimes even unintentionally - you hear it loud and clear.  Not only that, you feel it.  You feel what is going through their heart and their mind and if your bond is exceptionally strong you may even share in their sensations.  It doesn’t matter where you are, how far you’ve gone from them or how long it’s been since you’ve seen them - you will get a kick in the ass.

The first time Dean actually feels Cas pray he nearly falls out of flight, wings shaking and making him spiral downwards several feet before he regains control of himself.  HIs massive expanse of muscle and feathers snaps out to their full width and catch the air, Dean gliding along a much lower flight path while he tries to make sense of the fear - terror - that had racked uncontrollably through his body.  When he hears his name, weakly prayed aloud to go along with the sensation his flight path takes an immediate 180, moving as fast as he ever had until he’s at Cas’ side in the basement of the hunter’s home, laying in a pool of his own blood and barely hanging on to his last breath of life.  

Dean hadn’t left Cas’ side for a month after that and it took Cas actually begging him to give him some space.  The guilt he still harbored for not being there in the first place not helping in the slightest.  “Three days, Dean.  Just give me three days all on my own.  I’ll still be alive at the end of that time.  I promise.”  It had nearly torn Dean up to leave him, for more reasons than he was willing to admit but he eventually did, promising himself he would not actually go far.  Cas is a hardened hunter and knows what he’s doing, but no one can be that lucky every time and no one lives forever - well, not humans like Cas anyway.

It doesn’t happen again for a long time but as the months pass, Dean starts to understand more and more just how it had.  They’d known each other for years and though when they had first met they were anything but amicable, more and more he’s finding himself inexplicably drawn to the hunter - more so than any other ward he has guarded over the centuries.  He can’t stand to be away from Cas, from his dry humor and sarcastic roll of his eyes or the way he bites his lip when he’s trying to hold back a laugh. Dean keeps getting distracted by his movements, the way his arms glide through the air when he talks and the little shiver that goes up his spine when the temperature drops or a gust of wind blows through.  When he’s away from Cas he tends to think more about him than what his current task is and that has caused him issues more than once already.  Cas, however, seems to not have changed much, still arguing with Dean about just how much ‘protection’ he really needs and absolutely anything else that he can think of apparently.  

The thing Dean looks forward to when he is gone the most, is Cas’ prayers - the normal, everyday kind.  It doesn’t exactly knock him from his flight path, but Dean is still surprised to hear his name called through their connection, a little worried at first until Cas just starts... talking.  He’s telling Dean about his day, some of the most minute details that they never talk about when they are actually together.  Cas is fairly adamant that he doesn’t want Dean to show up, which is good because he was seriously about to screw his current orders and just pop in.  He still wants to go, but is slowly starting to actually listen to Cas’ wishes as long as they aren’t life threatening - and this one doesn’t appear to be.  

It becomes fairly routine - when Dean is away Cas will pray.  Not every day, just two or three times a week.  Though there was one point when Cas prayed twice a day three days in a row right after Dean had left and he hadn’t questioned it, enjoyed immensely actually.

Cas’ one sided conversations keep Dean feeling warm when he didn’t know he was cold.

He smiles a lot more than he used to.

One evening, while Dean sits quietly in one of heaven’s massive library halls reading through a book Cas had actually recommended, he gets a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach, nothing painful but not something that - due to his current surroundings - he can actually place right away.  Dean keeps trying to read but he can only ignore it for a few pages before it starts to spread and a smile grows slowly over his lips, creeping up until the corners of his eyes are crinkled and if any one happened to walk by they would think he was reading something extremely heart warming.  His name comes through to his senses loud and clear about the time he decides to give up on the book.  It’s crisp and curt and Cas’ voice rings in his ears as desperate but safe and so very warm.  Dean finds that he’s out of breath and quickly glances around to be sure he’s alone as the tightness that had started as a light tingle winds his body tighter and tighter.  He groans, pinching the brow of his nose and trying to think of way to ignore this, to pretend its not happening.  But then Cas says his name again, louder, with much more enthusiasm and suddenly Dean doesn’t want to cut it off - doesn’t want to ever forget how Cas sounds, right now.  He sinks further into his seat, one hand covering his face and the other gripped tight onto the arm of his chair so he doesn’t just slip down while he gives in and opens up.  Every sensation is magnified after a deep breath and he can almost feel Cas’ hands on his skin, fire gliding along every inch of his body and burning straight through to his insides until it culminates in an explosion of light and pleasure, Dean biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep from yelling out - a noise that would surely echo through miles of open hall.  

When he opens his eyes again Dean has his head laid over the back of his chair, hanging while he catches his breath and simply stares at the ceiling in complete wonder.  No part of his body feels quite like it did a few minutes ago, his legs feel looser and his fingers are tingling all while his mind reels.  

It’s a good half an hour before he moves.  

The next day he sees Cas again, as planned, and he doesn’t mention it.  How could he?  The feeling as if he may have been intruding on something Cas had never intended to share keeps his temper short and his words shorter.  As for Cas, he’s just... Cas - his usual quiet, occasionally sarcastic, smart ass self.  Dean moves on over their next few days spent together, never quite over it but at least able to look at Cas without feeling his chest tighten by the end of it.

Of course, it keeps happening.  

It doesn’t happen again for a while, and by the time it does Dean hadn’t exactly forgotten about it, but certainly put the incident further back in his mind, believing it to have been some fluke, some strange accident or dream that didn’t actually happen.

He has to excuse himself from a meeting with his brothers and sisters when it happens again, knowing full well they can see the way his wings are held tightly together behind him, feathers shaking from the way his body trembles as he leaves them behind.  From that point forward he makes a point to either have an easy escape or be alone around the time Cas usually goes to bed.

It doesn’t help.  

Sometimes Cas even does his evening one sided conversations within the hour afterwards as if nothing was out of the ordinary, only a little more relaxed than usual, maybe more affectionate in tone as well.  This strange thing becomes a routine that neither acknowledges, but exists all the same.

They’re on a hunt when things finally change.

Normally, when Cas finds a lead he follows it alone, only working with Dean when Dean is the one to bring him into something.  This time however, Cas knew he wouldn’t be able to take the beast alone.  

It’s not every day you go up against a two thousand year old manticore after all.  

The hunt is long and the fight is hard.  Despite Dean’s superior reaction time, speed, and strength, both of them barely make it out alive at the other end.  Cas and Dean are equally battered, bloodied and more than a little bruised up as they try and catch their breath next to the flames that engulf the massive creature.  They stand shoulder to shoulder, Dean looking to Cas with more warmth and admiration than one would usually express at the end of such an exhausting day, but there it is anyway.  While they stand in the silence, something from the fire pops with a small explosion and Cas jerks a little.  At first, Dean thinks its just from being startled but within the space of a breath, terror gripping at his chest, he knows it isn’t.

Cas is standing one second, crumpled to the ground shaking uncontrollably the next.  

Fear like Dean has never felt rips through him as he drops to his knees, calling for Cas to respond and then desperately calling to the heavens for help.  Pain tears at his chest, his own legs trembling while Cas continues to convulse in his arms.  The last time Cas was clinging onto life Dean kept cool, knowing he could help, he could fix it.  Not this time.  Nothing he does helps.  He can find no obvious new wounds, all of the old ones mostly crusted over over by now with crusty brown dried up blood.  With his lips trembling and tears already falling he tries to heal him and all he manages to is clear up the tears from earlier, the breaks and scabs and even manages to make a few of the scars Cas has had for decades fade away.  

Nothing works.

Dean rests his forehead against Cas’ - completely and hopelessly helpless.

By the time Sam, Dean’s closest brother, shows up Cas has stopped shaking but still lies unconscious in Dean’s arms, barely breathing. Each attempt to do so is quiet and broken and sounds like sandpaper being rubbed slowly together and it just grinds against the open wounds in Dean’s heart.   

“Holy Shit!  Dean!”  The moment he lands Sam is on his knees beside them, a hand to the side of Cas’ face to try and figure out what is wrong.

“The damn thing is dead, Sam!  Somehow I think it still poisoned him and I have... I can’t...”  Dean never looks up from Cas’ blank face, words broken and forced.  

Sam stays mostly collected, resting a hand on Dean’s quaking shoulder.  “Dean.  Grab him.  Hold him close and follow me.  I know someone who should be able to help.”  

They leave the smouldering pile of ancient beast behind, Dean cradling Cas as close to his chest as he possibly can, kissing into his hair while he flies, trusting his connection with his brother to follow him because he can’t see through the water in his eyes and their speed as they cut through the air doesn’t make it any easier.  

As it turns out, the person they take Cas to is one of Sam’s charges - some cantankerous old hunter named Bobby that Dean would probably get along with really well if it weren’t for the fact he pays next to no attention to the man other than to get what he needs for Cas.  They find the tiny poisonous spine that had apparently expelled itself from the manticore in the heat of the fire and embedded itself in Cas’ hip.  Dean hears Sam and Bobby discussing how Cas hadn’t died instantly, theorizing that either it had diluted since the thing was already dead and dissipated in the fire or Dean’s healing was the only thing keeping his reaper at bay.  Dean likes to think it was his healing, holding onto the hope that he hasn’t been a completely useless guardian for Cas.  

He holds Cas’ head in his lap, fingers running through his hair while Bobby and Sam apply some sort of home concocted paste onto the puncture mark where the spine had been embedded.  

“That will draw out the bulk of it, but he’s gonna need to sweat the rest.  Been in his system too long.”  Bobby sounds grim but when they head up the stairs to one of the recovery rooms (Bobby is apparently this time zone’s hunter crisis center) Sam reassures Dean that that’s just his normal tone and that Cas is going to be fine.  Dean kinda shrugs, movements still stiff and closed off when he takes Cas into the little room, using the end of his wing to shut the door behind him before Sam can follow.  He doesn’t waste any time, stripping Cas of his bloody clothes and laying him gently on the bed in the middle of the room.  Dean vaguely remembers Bobby telling him about blankets and extra clothes in the wardrobe and pulls out something not only for Cas, but himself as well, tossing all of the blankets onto the foot of the bed.  

Changed and clean enough Dean, face hard and determined, crawls carefully onto the mattress next to Cas, tugging every layer of blanket up to cover him then unfurls his wings.  Carefully, he wraps himself around Cas.  His arms, his wings, his heart, his everything.  Dean holds him close, keeping him warm beneath the expanse of his wing.  

It’s quiet - at first.  For the first half hour or so Dean lays in the silence, feeling Cas’ body temperature slowly rise until he starts to sweat.  Its the first time Dean has stopped since the morning they set out on this stupid hunt and despite how much he’s concerned for Cas, his body aches.  He’s worried and despite Sam and Bobby’s reassurance, still scared.  

For a while, Dean just watches him sleep.

And then Cas gets worse.

Its the shaking that comes first.  An almost subtle, slow build that starts in his fingers and feet and moves through his limbs until Cas is trembling from head to toe, no matter how close Dean keeps him, or how much of the cool air he keeps out.  

“Dean?”  Without opening his eyes, Cas rasps out Dean’s name, moving his head from side to side as if he’s dreaming.  “What’s...” he coughs, hard, “What the hell is going on.”

The next few hours are torture on Cas and hell on Dean who tries to help him through hallucinations and phantom wounds.  It’s as if he’s reliving every hunt, every monster takedown he’s ever been through and the memories are coming back with a vengeance.    He shouts and screams over and over, the only thing that ever calms him is when he grips into Dean’s feathers, burying his face into the soft plumage and shaking not with the fever, but with fear.  Again, for the second time that night, Dean feels absolutely helpless.  There’s a point, near the end when the terrors seem to be more and more spaced out, where Dean feels absolutely exhausted.  Technically, guardians do not require rest of any kind.  That, however, does not mean that he can not sleep, or that when their vessels are particularly worn down and broken - as he is quickly becoming - that he doesn’t wish for it, nor that it doesn’t help relieve some of the pains of the body and aches in his heart - however temporarily.  

“Dean?”  Cas’ voice is softer this time, more even and still since he has stopped shaking again.  “Dean, I’m still hallucinating.”  

It’s enough of a relief for Dean that Cas at least recognizes that fact that his wings ripple with hope.  “Oh?”

Cas reaches out carefully, gingerly burying his fingers of both hands into the layers between Dean’s feathers and sliding them through.  A lop sided grin covers his face while each one slips through, fanning back out when he pulls away.  Cas repeats this over and over, starting a little deeper each time and stopping to marvel at the softness of his plumage near the bottom of each vein.  Dean has to bite his lip to keep from shaking at each closer and closer touch.  When Cas’ fingers actually brush against the skin his wing jerks back.

“Are you going to continue that thought or just keep playing with my feathers all day?”

“That’s just it!  You have wings!  You don’t have wings.  What the hell?”  Though he is still weak, the clarity in Cas’ eyes is the only thing that allows Dean to finally smile.

“I’m a guardian, dumb ass.  Of course I have wings.”  

The laugh that Cas lets go of - a loud burst of excitement and weak energy - warms every inch of Dean and for the first time since he met with Cas the previous day he starts to actually relax.   Cas shakes his head, bottom lip poked out in an exaggerated frown.  “Nope.  You do not.  Not really anyway.  It’s like, meta.. meta phys.. metaphirical?”

Dean shakes his head and runs a hand down Cas’ face.  “Don’t try to use such big words, Cas.  You might hurt yourself.”

In a true show of just how much better he’s getting, Cas rolls his eyes.  “Whatever.  Look, I’ve met a bunch of you guys now, and none of you have visible wings.  It’s.. it’s like they’re there but they’re not there.  At least, not for lowly people like us to see.”  He’s still toying with the ends of Dean’s feathers, not really focused on anything at the moment and Dean frowns.

“You couldn’t see them because we’re all very picky about who gets to see that much of us.  Our wings are... they’re very private.”  Dean’s eyes flutter closed while he takes a deep breath.  “No one but my family has seen my wings in centuries, Cas.”

The touch on his feathers disappears and Dean holds his breath, worried about what Cas will say next.  He only lets the breath go, opening his eyes, when he feels Cas’ hands return to him, but resting against his chest.  “Dean...”  Cas turns next to him and they’re face to face, breathing each other’s oxygen, sharing the same heart beats.  “Are you going to hide them away from me again?”

He shakes his head.  “Even if I could, I wouldn’t.  Not from you.”

Cas smiles through a yawn, shifting his body to settle down against Dean’s chest.  “Good.  They’re beautiful.”  In half a dozen breaths, he’s out.  

There are no more nightmares, no more hallucinations, and no more terrors startling him awake.  Cas cools off, stops sweating, and finally sleeps soundly without even a snore to disturb his rest.  

Eventually, relaxed and at peace, Dean joins him.  

For a week they stay at Bobby’s.  Cas sleeps a lot for the first few days only getting up to eat the soup Dean makes for him or use the bathroom.  On the fourth day he’s awake for most of it, moving around, helping in the kitchen, perusing Bobby’s extensive library of hunter reading material.  When he argues with Dean over Kraft macaroni and cheese vs velveeta Dean knows he’s feeling almost completely better.  When they discuss how they’re going to get home Dean tells him they will fly back of course - it seems obvious enough to him.  He expects Cas to be against it and is surprised when they wind up trying to figure out if that makes them Clark Kent and Lois Lane or Iron Man and Captain America.  In a strange turn of events, they wind up agreeing that Dean is totally Iron Man and Cas is Captain America.

The one thing that Dean has to get used to is Cas’ hyper awareness of his wings.  They will forever be visible to him now that Dean has dropped his defenses and let him in and Cas seems absolutely fascinated.  Typically, they stay folded up neatly behind his back, tucked away and out of trouble so that he can move around buildings and homes that were built and arranged without an extra set of dangly limbs in mind.  Every time he catches Cas looking its with a newfound sense of awe that he feels being bored right into his body.  He doesn’t hide the fact that it makes him blush.  

The night before they plan to return home, Cas and Dean are alone in the little living room and Cas scoots close on the couch, biting at his lip and attempting to avoid eye contact while some movie starts on the television.  Dean stares him down though, silently demanding an answer as to why he’s acting so strange.  

Which is how he winds up sitting on the floor in front of the couch, wings spread and relaxed with Cas on the couch behind him and completely and utterly lost into the sensation of having his wings freaking massaged.  Dean’s not exactly a blushing virgin when it comes to intimacy - he’s had his fair share of trysts over the eons - but this is something entirely new.  No human has been able to even see his wings, let alone touch them.  Cas’ fingers against his skin and gliding through his feathers feels like warm water being poured over his body.  Every stroke of his hands down another set of muscles just makes Dean sigh harder, relax further, until he’s all but a pile of broken down guardian lying on the floor in some hunter’s living room.

Cas’ hands move from Dean’s wings to his actual shoulders and then along the back of his neck, nails scratching along his scalp and fingers carding into Dean’s hair.  “Dean?”  He speaks quietly, lips close enough to Dean’s ear he can feel the warmth of his breath.  Dean just hums his response, laying his head back into the grasp of Cas’ hands.

The press of a soft kiss against Dean’s neck has him in only a momentary state of shock, body still and wings shuddering out with a flutter.  Cas chuckles against his neck, “Thank you.”

Every memory Dean has of the late night prayers from Cas comes flooding back, all the sensations and wants and desires that have built up over the last year swirl in his mind and clutch at his chest.  When Cas moves his head away Dean drops his own back into Cas’ lap, looking up at him, lips parted in a silent moment - unsure of what he should say but knowing exactly what he wants to.

But they are in someone elses home, and only by the luck of timing are they currently still alone and Dean sighs.  Cas presses his lips in another kiss against the tip of Dean’s nose and says quietly.  “We leave for home first thing in the morning, right?”

“We’ll be on our way by the time the sun breaks the horizon, Cas.”

They actually leave before the light is even out the following morning, Dean having not slept -  as is normal for him - and Cas maybe making it four or five hours before he’s practically begging.  

This time though, it’s for Dean to stay.  

The moment they’re through Cas’ front door he turns on Dean, gripping him by either side of his face and kissing him so hard Dean almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.  His wings shake and his hands kind of go everywhere, unsure of where to put them until he finally decides to wrap them around Cas’ middle and pull him close, bodies flush.  Their kiss is far from timid and questioning.  It’s a kiss that has been a long time coming, that he now knows for certain both have wanted and thought about and needed for longer than either will probably admit.  It’s hard and warm and desperate and it demands to be felt.  Cas licks into Dean’s mouth who opens up eagerly, pressing back with as much force as he dares and unknowingly lifting Cas off his feet.  Laughter fills the room and Dean’s heart when Cas breaks the kiss, looking down at where he’s dangling a few inches off the ground.

“You going to carry me to the bedroom?”  He glances back up at Dean, pupils blown and voice teasing.

Dean shrugs.  “I’ve carried you further for less.”  He lifts a little more and Cas, encouraged, picks his legs up to wrap around Dean’s hips which just makes for all sorts of new and exciting sensations for Dean.  He groans, dropping his forehead against Cas’ and licking his lips.

“You are going to be the Death of me, Castiel.”

Cas smirks and fucking wriggles his hips against Dean’s, not exactly going to plan as it makes him gasp almost as much as Dean does.  Breathing heavy, he nudges Dean’s nose with his own.  “Don’t say that, especially after I just figured out that you are my life.”

They’re both silent for a moment, not breaking eye contact and Dean slowly making his way to Cas’ bedroom.  His bottom lip trembles at the admission, stealing another kiss before responding.  “You could do so much better than a fuck up of a guardian who lets his only ward nearly die every couple of months.”

The acceptance Dean finds in Cas eyes as he shakes his head makes him smile.  “Nah.  Doubt that, especially since you actually manage to keep up and put up with a sarcastic, danger seeker - verging on the suicidal -  asshole of a charge like me.”  He cups Dean’s face, grinning easily and untangling his legs from around his hips so he can crawl back on his knees onto the bed, pulling Dean with him.  Their conversation devolves into a slow burn of kisses and lips dragged along skin, hands seeking flesh under layers of clothing and an irrational giddiness from Cas when he has to figure out how to manage to get Dean’s clothes off around his wings.  By the time he figures it out they both have their tops off and pants undone, Cas eagerly palming at Dean’s cock through his underwear while he bites and sucks a deep bruise into Dean’s shoulder.  

All Dean can do is hold on, heart pounding in his chest and breath caught in his throat.  He tries to reciprocate, to match Cas’ motions with his own but his hand just gets swatted away without explanation.  Cas moves further, reaching beneath the fabric and his hand wraps around Dean’s length, slowly stroking him while he teases kisses against his lips.  Dean manages to breathe out Cas’ name, wings fluttering more and more outward with every stroke.  

Dean’s wings seem to capture Cas’ attention, one sided grin growing with a devilish glint in his eye.  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this, Dean.  Imagined what you would feel like, how soft the skin of your cock would be.”  Cas drags his teeth along the hard shell of Dean’s ear, nearly growling into it.  “How many nights I’ve gotten off just thinking about you.”  

It’s Dean’s turn to smirk, body jerking when Cas tightens his grip.  “Ah.. Ah but, I do know, Cas.  You’re not exactly... “  he has to stop talking long enough to catch his breath, “quiet about it.”

Cas stops moving his hand and draws back, searching Dean’s face.  “You... you were watching me?”  He doesn’t look angry, just confused and Dean shakes his head.

“No.  No, you know how you pray to talk to me?  Well, when you call my name like that...”  Dean’s smirk grows wider and he winks.  “I get the message.  And sometimes...”  Dean presses his body forward, grinding his hips against Cas’ so their cocks slide together, “I can feel what you feel.”

The groan that leaves Cas’ lips is desperate and needy and goes straight to Dean’s dick.  “Fuck, that’s hot Dean.”  He brings their lips back together in a sloppy, rough kiss, biting at Dean’s lip and scratching his nails down his chest.  “Lay down and get those pants the rest of the way off.”  

Dean eagerly does as he’s requested, kicking off the last of his clothes while he leans forward, grabbing onto a pillow and laying on his stomach, wings spread wide and draping over either side of the bed in mass of black feathers, hips raised just enough his cock isn’t caught between his body and the mattress.  Cas rejoins him moments later, blanketing Dean’s back with his own body, dick pressed firmly between his ass and rocking slowly.  “You are so damn beautiful, Dean.”  Cas starts slowly kissing Dean’s neck and shoulders, occasionally biting the skin lightly to bring out another kind of moan from Dean.  Everything rolls together in Dean’s body, pooling in his gut like the shared sensations of Cas’ private climaxes never quite had.  His fingers shake and his wings never quite stop moving and when Cas starts mouthing at the extra set of hard muscles where his wings meet his back, all bets are off.   Dean groans with his head tilted back, rolling his hips back against Cas.  

They rock together like that for a long while, Cas dragging himself between the tight cleft of Dean’s ass while his hands and mouth roam absolutely everywhere.  His touch is fire on Dean’s skin, every new press of his body against Dean’s causing him to twitch and roll uncontrollably.  Cas experiments with pressure and length of time, fingers finding all the most sensitive areas beneath Dean’s feathers - which is quite honestly most of them.  Occasionally he pauses to admire, leaning forward and whispering softly against Dean’s ear.  Dean only protests how slow Cas is moving once and Cas chuckles.  “Hush, Dean.  Body worship is an art, and your body deserves every second of this.”

 He returns to his movements, Cas slowly guiding Dean’s legs forward, shifting him until his knees are pulled up, tongue gliding down Dean’s spine until he reaches his ass.  Dean shivers beneath him, wings snapping out hard when Cas’ tongue reaches his hole, circling the ring of muscle with a steady amount of pressure.  It’s all too perfect and Dean fucking melts, burying his face into the pillow in his arms to muffle his shouts.  Cas tortures him in such a beautiful way with his tongue and his fingers and his lips, hand wrapped around Dean’s cock and stroking lazily while he opens him up.  By the time he’s got two fingers in, stretching him wide and pressing in his tongue between them Dean can barely make a sound his muscles are all wound so tightly.  He rocks back against Cas, unable to warn him that he’s close, not able to take a breath or let one go, everything caught up in the tension of pleasure until Cas bends his knuckles just so and Dean cums.  Everything snaps, his legs and arms and toes all curling in on themselves.  His wings are the most exquisite show, Cas staring up at them in awe while they spread out to their full glory, several feathers shaking free they move so hard and so fast as Dean spills into Cas’ hand and over onto the sheets.  

When Dean collapses forward, face buried in the pillow and groaning Cas just laughs and kisses him more all over his back and the subtle shift from feather to skin.  Dean shivers beneath him all the way out to the tips of his wings.

Cas mutters under his breath, smart ass quips about not knowing it would be that easy and how beautiful Dean looks just from this angle and how he can’t wait to see his face.  There are more touches and more kisses, hands on hips and sides and around Dean’s middle, guiding him to turn around while Cas traces every line and dip of Dean’s skin.  Each connection - every inch they move together makes Dean’s grin grow wider until he’s almost laughing with it, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes lighting up his face.  Cas pulls him forward so that Dean is basically in his lap, pressing his lips along the line of his jaw in feather soft touches.  

They are slow and tender, Dean drinking in the sensations and returning each in kind.  The feeling of Cas’ body against his, his lips and fingers and cock pressing slowly against his entrance makes Dean think of flight, how weightless he feels in the free fall of good gust of wind.  

Cas feels like heaven - Dean would know, he’s been.  

As he moves down slowly they brush noses, keeping their eyes locked on one another.  Dean marvels at how hard Cas is trying to keep his eyes open and focused on Dean, nearly giving in several times.  Cas is shaking and searching, his eyes and face covered in adoration and lost to everything Dean gives him.  Dean’s having issues staying focused himself, Cas stretching him wide and aching to lose himself to it.  When he bottoms out and can feel every inch of Cas it’s too much.  He drops his head back with a sated sigh, wings relaxed and full around him.  Dean leans back, held up by Cas’ strong grip and rolling his hips with a smirk to pull a curse from Cas.  The ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is broken and coarse, rumbling low through his body becoming a groan that doesn’t stop until Dean leans forward again to kiss him and start to move with purpose.  

It’s easy to go slow at first, Dean lifting his body and rolling his hips, the shear weight of his entire being - wings and all - making the drop back down so much sweeter and deeper.  Cas’ hands and his kisses are so sure at first, quickly starting to shake and tremble, slipping away from his grip on Dean hips until all he can do is throw his arms around Dean’s neck and hold on while Dean rides him into oblivion.  Dean brings his wings up and around them, blocking out the rest of the world - every sound every idea every thought except for them right there in that moment.  

“Dean…”  Cas curls into him, whispering his name in the reverent way that connects them beyond just the physical.

The wind is knocked from Dean’s chest while everything that is going through Cas at that moment slams into him - a tidal wave of emotion and sensation that boils over and he can feel Cas cuming.  He feels it not just in the way the man tenses in his arms or the way his face becomes a beautiful mess of features or the way he stops breathing all together before falling into a song of Dean’s name over and over.  He feels it in his stomach, the way his had clenched and exploded before and the way it is about to again.  Dean drops his head forward, foreheads pressed together while he cums a second time and his enitre being shakes through it.  Cas lifts his face to take Dean’ slips in his, kissing him hard while their movements and bodies settle, hearts calming down in their chests until they can think and see clearly again.

“You should pray more.”  Dean speaks quietly against Cas’ lips, the two of them still pressed completely together and hiding from the world behind the protective embrace of Dean’s wings.

Cas slides his hand up Dean’s neck and into his hair, running his fingers through the softness of it and grinning.  “I hope you’ll be around enough I don’t have to.”  

And Dean intends to, for as long as Cas will have him.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, derogatory remarks?  
> Leave 'em below!  
> And as always, check the [tumblr!](http://the-hunters-angel.tumblr.com)


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